Rachael Padezanin's Poetry Page
I Am

I am…
Rachael Ann Padezanin
Short and petite
Curly-haired, blue eyed, freckle face

Very silly :)
A Christian
Quite outgoing but shy sometimes
Usually stereotyped as the stuck-up smart little white girl
Not even close to being stuck-up

A bit clumsy :p
Lazy sometimes and love to sleep
Always smiling and laughing
Someone who talks like all the time
Obsessed with Taylor Swift and Paramore <3

Fortunate for my amazing friends and family <3
An older sister
A person who loves to talk to people
Annoyed by liars and hypocrites

Waiting impatiently for my license
A sixteen year old junior
One of the youngest in my grade

A high honor roll over achieving student
Getting stressed out by school
Kind of ocd about my grades
Upset if I get anything lower than a B

A person who dreams
A teenage girl with hopes, dreams, fears,
and a love for life.
I am me…only and just me




I Am a Degenerate

Survival of the fittest, that’s what society’s about.
Degenerates is what Charles Darwin was trying to wipe-out.
Alcoholics, psychotic, pauper and vagrant
words all synonymous with degenerate.
Social Darwinism means only the strong will stay alive,
so say bye-bye to all degenerates
‘cause they will not survive.

All the dirty looks, snickers, and scowls
makes you feel so very foul.
Living as a degenerate is very harsh and cruel,
feeling like you’re so awful.
All impact on your life.

Everyone knows their place; a rule you must abide by
but you the degenerate have your own rely.
Living with other people just like you,
not at home...but with others of your kind.
You and the others have a certain bind.
To go get sterilized without a choice
From you or your mind

Just like locusts degenerates infest everywhere.
Living with these people isn’t an easy affair.
But all the time no matter where you go,
There’s at least one degenerate not zero

Everyone no matter when in time,
has had a degenerate in their family line.
You never know who may be one…
So when it’s all said and done,
be careful who you call a
DEGENERATE







I Am a Half-Caste Child
Offspring of a black man and a white woman.
Hidden like a deer from a hunter
the law steals me away…lost forever.
I’m from the stolen generation.
The children like me get taken away.
Enculturating us; making me someone who I’m not.
“Momma don’t let them take me.”
Stolen from my life I once knew,
but will never be part of me again.
They take me to some place that I do not know;
wash me clean, and send me to my room with the other girls.
They stare… ask questions
“I come from the Rabbit Proof Fence.”
I am a stolen generation.
They call me ‘little half-caste girl’

The Cars
Hands hanging out of the window.
Reaching for some type of hope.
Confused & Worried
Bodies crammed together.
As hot as the Devils breath.
Shoved in cars that were meant for animals.
No respect for us… “the others.”
Treated like we are some type of animal.
But you are no better than I.
Shoved in the car…extremely hot.
No room to move; body smashed against body.
Children cry and plea to their mothers
“Mommy, it’s hot. Get me out of here.”
People trying to stay away from other people.
Hotter than the sun.
Crammed in the cattle cars.
More than capacity can hold.
On the way to Auschwitz.

Sneetches Poem
The Star-Chested Ethnics
had stars on their chests.
The ‘normals’ were treated
like they were the best.

The stars weren’t so big,
but they mattered so much.
They were taken advantage of,
told what to do, and such.
Taking up lunch trays
and picking up books,
the Star-Chested Ethnics
got evil dirty looks.

At BFHS, they got excluded
and left out.
All the ‘normals’ would
tease and shout.

Day after day the Star-Chested Ethnics
got treated like dirt.
They woke sad in the morning
and put the star on their shirt.

Being considered different
because of one little star
is quite bizarre.